


Hope Is A Mistake

by silentshadows



Category: Mad Max Series (Movies)
Genre: F/F, F/M, First Kiss, Nux Lives, Past Rape/Non-con, Slow Burn, The World Is Born Again, Virgin Nux, multiple POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:57:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 12,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentshadows/pseuds/silentshadows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He left because he had a mission. He left because the kid had made a promise. He left because somehow, in those few short days, he had - against his better judgement - begun to care for those girls who had started to look at him with trust in their eyes.</p><p>--</p><p>In which our heroes learn about the world when it's not on fire, and perhaps learn that hope isn't as much of a mistake as Max thinks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. You Said You'd Follow

He left because he had a mission.

He left because the kid had made a promise. He left because somehow, in those few short days, he had - against his better judgement - begun to care for those girls who had started to look at him with trust in their eyes. Because they made him not crazy. Because they knew his name. Because the red-haired one had cried for the kid. They'd all teared up, yeah, but she'd cried, real tears, wasted water. It had been too long since this world had held expression like that outside the dreams of those who could remember. He took another car - he could make it his, he reckoned Furiosa wouldn't mind - and he drove, because he had a fifty-fifty shot. Either the kid was alive or he was dead.

Hours and hours pass as he searches the massive pile of wreckage, kicking aside destroyed metal and discovering it was good to be cautious around what had once been explosives. Twice in the first hour he nearly loses his face, trying to flip a body to determine if it was the one he was looking for. So many bodies, all sick and thin and rotting in the heat already. All white with paint and chalk, all cut to pieces and burned and scarred, self-mutilation the likes of which he’d rarely seen, all to please a false god. There was hope, though, because the Rig hadn't exploded, and there was no corpse there to tell him he had wasted time and guzzoline, just bloody broken glass. So many cars, so many parts, so much death. It was rancid, the death and gas and rotting Mother's Milk all powerful in the heat. He'd smelled worse.

It gets to the point that he has to move them so he can remember which of them he has already looked at, constantly having to remind himself of what the kid looked like. The scarring on his chest was helpful, his chest and his lips - those were easy to remember, so long as they weren’t burned or flayed away. He dumps the bodies together away from the wreckage, foolish hope fading in his chest each time he moves another corpse. One he finds barely alive, but there would be no life for him anymore, missing an arm at the shoulder and his face burned so badly that it was insane that he was still breathing. It's mercy, he thinks, the bullet he puts in his skull. The sound echoes in the canyon, drawing more silence afterwards.

His gun swings automatically towards another sound when he hears it, eyes scanning for movement even as he ducks down. Long silence, then another metallic scrape. Another one alive then - maybe it would be the kid and he could get out of here. He follows the sound, breath hissing out between dry lips when he finds the source. Another Warboy, not the kid, run through with metal and half his face falling off, the other half mangled with scars. The boy - it shocks him, how young they had been, now that he could see them - looks at him with his one eye, clouded and hazy, and lifts a hand towards one of the other vehicles. What was left of his face was familiar - in a rush he realizes this was the one who had stolen his boot, just after he'd been untied from the front of the car. He couldn't remember the name, but as he follows the boy's motion with his eyes, he recognizes the V8 scarring on the barely-visible chest attached to the legs sticking out from beneath a truck. Drag marks - why hadn't he thought to check for that? He turns and looks at the Warboy, all motion and life gone from the boy's - man's, they were men in this world - body.

"Thanks." The word is a croak, his voice still gravelly in his own throat. Cautiously he approaches the kid, nudging his leg with his boot. Breathing. The kid was alive. Bones were clearly broken, various parts of him shredded and burned - somehow the kid was still alive. Some part of him wants to just sink another bullet into his skull, end his misery, but he couldn’t do that yet. Had to take him back, had to give him a shot. The kid had shown promise, loyalty, usefulness, and he couldn’t take the chance away from them. Not after she’d cried for him.

He carries him to the car he'd taken, leaves him in the shadow of it while he goes back. Hours more he spends there, until he is certain they were all dead. Not for any malicious reason, he realizes with a start, but because he feels they need mercy. Like the first one, somehow still breathing, Just once in their lives, they need mercy. He remembers the days Before, when religion had dictated the roles of men. He knows the destruction that false hope of salvation could bring. And really, living as they had been, was it so wrong of them to hope for something more after their inevitable end? He comes back to the kid still motionless beyond labored breathing where he'd been left, dusk falling on the desert. The Citadel in the distance seems impossibly far away, but regardless he gives the kid the last of the water, cleaning away the dirt and oil from a vicious cut above his right eye. They could make it tonight.

"You said you'd follow," he speaks, propping the kid up in the passenger seat. Once he's in himself he hooks up the bloodbag tubing and takes off, pedal against the floor as he leaves the rancid wreck behind.  
"We're men of our word, kid. You gotta follow." There was no response. It didn't matter. He's alive, and somehow that's hope enough.


	2. He Followed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s stirred from a not-sleep by a breathless Warpup, his hushed whispers somehow not waking the Wives. Sisters, she corrects her own thoughts after she looks at them sleeping. They were creatures of softness and gentleness, and they’d had a long few days.

She’s stirred from a not-sleep by a breathless Warpup, his hushed whispers somehow not waking the Wives. Sisters, she corrects her own thoughts after she looks at them sleeping. They were creatures of softness and gentleness, and they’d had a long few days. She stands and attaches her mechanical arm, heaving a sigh as she allows the Pup to lead her out of the Vault and toward where she could already hear the Warpups getting revved up.

“Be quiet,” she says, a hush falling over the group surrounding the car Max had taken. He’s sitting in the driver’s seat still, looking up at her with a faint almost-smile. He didn’t smile, not really. The Pup that had gone to retrieve her bounced at her side as she took the steps one at a time, still worn and dizzy from her earlier incident. Less than a full day, after all. The surviving of the Vuvalini told her she needed to stay in bed to heal for a few days at least, but she had never been the type to stay down.  
“Go back to bed. The situation is under control.” As if she was Joe himself they scatter, buzzing back to where they all slept. The Pup stays with her for a moment, and she realizes why with alarm - when had she leaned against his shoulder? She straightens up and sends the boy on his way, reluctant to leave the excitement as he was.

“You... should be sleeping,” Max says, looking her up and down as he reaches over to unhook the tubing she could barely see from his arm. She takes the last few steps slowly, both shocked and yet unsurprised to see the Warboy in the passenger seat. She shrugs wordlessly at his assessment, leaning against the car.  
“Surprised he was alive,” she comments, watching the boy struggle to breathe. Max grunts at her, making her sigh. “Are you staying?” He glances around after he opens the car door, finally staring at her and shrugging his shoulders.  
“Maybe.” The answer doesn’t surprise her. “He needs help.” She nods, pushing up off the car with her organic arm and moving to the passenger side.  
“You have to carry him,” she answers, opening the door and placing her fingers against the sliced skin of the boy’s throat. She found his heartbeat there, rapid and uneven. He did need help, possibly more than they could give. “Pup,” she calls, the same boy she’d been leaning against poking his head back around the corner. “Go to the new women. Tell them Furiosa wants them, for the boy from the Rig.” Without arguing he runs off, bare feet slapping against the stone. 

It takes them a long time to find a room that’s decently clean. As it is she insists on cleaning off the table that would end up being the boy’s bed, years of dirt and grime coming away with the water. Three of the Vuvalini appear as she was finishes, immediately making her sit as they take over, padding the bed and trying to make him comfortable. The only piece of him that didn’t seem to be destroyed was his dominant hand, blackened fingers bloody but intact. By the time the sun starts coming back up they’re working over his shredded flesh with needles, cautious hands using bowl after bowl of precious water to clean the boy’s wounds and keep him hydrated. They try to feed him once, but the fine broth is just choked back up. Not yet. 

“Rest,” Max says in her ear, nudging her away from where she’d been leaning with his shoulder. She staggers, not expecting the motion. Was she still so worn from her injuries that she couldn’t even stay up on her own feet? “You got stabbed. Twice, sorry. Rest.” Max guides her by the elbow of her mechanical arm, heading for the outer Vault.  
“She’s still low on blood,” one of the Mothers calls after them, making Max grunt. She lets him sit her down against one of the vaguely cushioned seats, hissing when he presses the needle back against her skin a few moments later. 

“They need you,” he speaks after a long moment, stirring her from sleeping against his shoulder. Unsure of what he’s talking about, she grunts, sitting up. “These people. You’re the leader. They need you.” She blinks at him blearily, them nods slowly.  
“I know. It’s going to be hard.” A noise startles them both, the scrape of metal against stone. 

“Max is back!” It’s The Dag, Warboy-white hair mussed with sleep. Cheedo the Fragile pokes her head around the other woman, blinking at them with big dark eyes.  
“Hush,” Max replies, motioning to her. “She needs to rest.” Toast the Knowing shoves out past the other two women, something feral in her eyes as she fights past the metal door.  
“Toast, calm down. It wasn’t a dream. Joe is dead,” The Dag says calmly, Toast’s shoulders dropping from their tense position. Capable comes out next, slowly, her hair straight like she hadn’t been sleeping at all.  
“Has, um,” she stops before she can even start, eyes catching on the blood on Furiosa’s hands.  
“He followed,” Max says, answering the question Capable hadn’t asked yet. He stared at her even as Capable buries her face in her hands, shoulders hitching.  
“Where?” It was The Dag again, and Max just points. Capable rips away like she’s being shot at, followed by Toast as the other two women stare at them. 

“The beds are empty,” Cheedo speaks, leading The Dag away from the inner Vault door. Furiosa doesn’t see where they wandered to, her head swimming and eyes heavy as Max helps her into the Vault. 

Hopefully he’ll still be around when she wakes up.


	3. Larry and Barry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m going to cut him,” the older Vuvalini says, grabbing a knife off of the smaller table and bringing it to Nux’s throat. Without thinking Capable launches herself at the woman, shrieking like someone had shot her. She knows what a knife to the throat means, and she just got him back - she’s not willing to lose him again so quickly.

“I’m going to cut him,” the older Vuvalini says, grabbing a knife off of the smaller table and bringing it to Nux’s throat. Without thinking Capable launches herself at the woman, shrieking like someone had shot her. She knows what a knife to the throat means, and she just got him back - she’s not willing to lose him again so quickly.

She finds herself lifted after mere seconds, just before she’s tossed across the room to hit the wall. The door slams open and Furiosa and Toast are both there, nostrils flaring. The old woman groans, shaking her head and returning to attempting to murder Nux.  
“Furiosa, stop her! She’s going to kill him!” Capable knows that she’s begging, but she can’t help it. She knew it was foolish that she’d grown to care about the Warboy so abruptly, but he was so broken, so desperate for anything similar to affection.  
“I ain’t going to kill him, Bluey,” the old woman says, making Capable pause in confusion.  
“You’ve got a knife at his throat and you expect me to believe you’re not going to kill him?” She spits the words, forcing herself back to her feet. She was entirely willing to defend him - he’d followed. He’d kept his word, and now she had to protect him. Furiosa wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t she moving?

“Y’see these?” Capable blinks, coming to the old woman’s side and holding her hand out for the knife.  
“Larry and Barry,” she answers, licking her lips. “His mates. They chew on his windpipe.” The old woman nods, tilting Nux’s face to the side. “Y’leave them there, he’s gonna die,” she speaks like her words shouldn’t be startling. Warboys die, yes, but Nux was more than just a Warboy. He was - he was Nux, he couldn’t just die. “But if y’cut them off,” the Vuvalini makes a slicing motion over Larry. “Then maybe they won’t.” Furiosa steps forward, glancing over their shoulders.

“You’re saying if we cut off the lumps, then he might live longer?” Capable’s heart jumps in her chest at the hope in the Imperator’s voice. She’s not imagining it, she’s sure. The Imperator thinks that Nux can be saved.  
“Maybe,” the old woman answers. “No way to tell for sure. But if you leave ‘em, he will die. Take ‘em away, he just might.” Capable’s hands shake as she hands the woman her knife back.  
“Can I hold his hand?” She questions, relieved when the old woman nods. “What’s your name?” The old woman looks at her for a long moment before smiling.  
“Fixer.” Capable knows that’s not her real name, but she also knows that Capable wasn’t the name she was born with either. Names are what you make them, so Fixer is a fine name, she thinks. 

“Thank you, Fixer.” Furiosa moves around to the less-injured part of Nux, Capable following so that she can grab onto his good hand and squeeze. “It’s going to be fine, Nux. We’re going to make you all shiny again, and you can teach me how to drive, like you promised. And I’ll teach you about the stars, and you can show me how to fight, and we’re gonna be good and chrome.” She’s mumbling to him, aware that Max has come in and is cautiously holding onto Nux’s legs. Furiosa is holding his head and chest while Fixer starts to cut. His cries of pain are muffled and bring tears to her eyes again, but if he might live longer, then she’ll let it happen. The fresh flood of blood from Nux’s throat makes her whimper for him, pressing her forehead against the back of his hand and continuing to talk. When it’s finally all done, the bloody hole is much larger than Larry and Barry ever were. Fixer bandages it all up and Max gives another long sigh before hooking himself up to Nux again after he cleans the tubing. Capable continues to talk to him, even after Toast and Furiosa leave. It’s just the three of them for a long time, Capable talking until she realizes she might be making Max uncomfortable. She stops, watching Nux breathe and setting her chin lightly against his good hand.

Max grunts at her abruptly, making her jump. He makes a vague motion towards Nux and then towards his own mouth, and Capable opens her mouth again, realizing what he wants.  
“Max thinks you’ll like if I keep talking to you, Nux,” she says and Max nods. So she keeps talking, telling him about everything she can think of. By the time Max unhooks the tubing from them and cleans it again she’s sure she’s started to repeat things, but she can’t remember for sure. She starts to doze, vaguely realizing that Max has left, but when she wakes up again it’s morning, there’s a pillow under her head, and a pitcher of water sits on the table. 

She starts talking to him again, hope rising in her chest when Nux starts to twitch.


	4. I'll Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The world is made of pain and fire. It shakes, trembles, burns and all he can do is sit there. His throat won’t even let him scream, even as he frantically tries again and again to put the fire out. It’s all over his body, constantly burning, and nothing could ever make it better. He thinks that the first time he could hear Capable screaming, but there’s no way she could be in this place. It’s only pain and fire.

The world is made of pain and fire. It shakes, trembles, burns and all he can do is sit there. His throat won’t even let him scream, even as he frantically tries again and again to put the fire out. It’s all over his body, constantly burning, and nothing could ever make it better. He thinks that the first time he could hear Capable screaming, but there’s no way she could be in this place. It’s only pain and fire.

Again and again he tries to open his eyes, to move, to speak, but nothing ever works. He can hear words, sometimes, between the dark times and the pain times. Sometimes it’s all panic.

“Hold him!”   
“He’s going to ruin the stitching!”   
“Why is someone this thin so strong?” 

And other times it’s softer, and those times it sounds like Capable, or The Dag, or Cheedo the Fragile. He likes those times best, even if he can’t really hear the words like he can when it hurts. They tell him of things he doesn’t understand, and he doesn’t know the words, but the voices make him think maybe one day the fire will go out.

There is one time, however, when he stops trying to put the fire out, even though it’s still burning. There is a cry of pain that hurts worse than the fire, and then the Imperator’s voice.  
“Capable, did he hurt you?” No, no, he couldn’t have hurt Capable, he never wanted that, not ever!  
“No, no, I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me,” she responds, clear like it always is when the fire burns him. There are tears in her voice and he knows that he did hurt her, and now he wants the fire to burn him forever because that’s what anyone who hurts Capable deserves. “Wait, he stopped shaking. Nux, Nux, can you hear me? Oh, Nux, please, can you hear me?” There are hands grabbing at his hand, water burning his skin. He squeezes the hands, trying to be gentle. “Max, Furiosa, he can hear me. Oh Nux,” she’s pressing her lips against his hand and he just lets the fire burn, feeling himself shake and tremble. He’s dying now, and since he hurt Capable, that’s okay.

The world fades out again, leaving him in the dark time thinking about how much he hates himself for hurting her.

He wakes up again and again and again and each time, he understands more words and the fire burns less and less. One day he wakes up and the unbearable pressure on his ribs is gone. Another day he can bend his knees. He’s always choking, though, but that’s okay. She’s always there, even though he did the unthinkable and he hurt her. She’s holding his hand every single time he wakes up. Sometimes the bloodbag is there - Max, he thinks - and sometimes the Imperator is there. Sometimes there are more people than he can count on one hand, crowded around him. He likes those days, because people are touching him, and sometimes it hurts but it reminds him that somehow he’s still alive. 

“C-” He chokes out the sound one day and everyone stops talking. “Ca-” As if she knows he’s trying to say her name she’s there, slowly lifting the bandage that has laid over his eyes for so long. She’s there and she’s so perfect, shiny and chrome and worth more than even entrance into Valhalla. She realizes that he can see her, and then she’s crying, touching his face gently while people start moving away. He looks once and sees The Dag’s belly is gigantic and swollen, like the Splendid Angrahad’s had been but so much bigger. She was carrying a sprog, then. She’d said so before, but now, seeing it like this, it was different. Cheedo’s arm was wrapped around the white-white woman’s waist, helping her stand. Dizzy with watching the motion Nux brings his eyes back to Capable’s wonderful face, watching her for a moment. He could move, slowly and sorely and parts of him felt like they were still burning, but he was awake and she was so happy about that. She gives him water, precious water, and all the people leave them alone again. The Imperator touches his forehead, and the bloodbag touches his foot, and then they leave too, just Nux and Capable in the room.

“You’re gonna be all better soon, Nux. Maybe in a few days Fixer will let me help you sit up. Are you hungry? You’re so thin now, I should probably bring you some broth. There are plants now, sort of. That’s what the Many Mothers call the green things. Plants. You plant them in the good ground and they become plants. It’s odd, I think, but that’s okay. I’m going to get you some broth,” she says, standing to move away. He doesn’t want to let go of her hand, so he doesn’t, hoping she’ll understand.  
“N-” He tries to explain but his mouth won’t work. She seems to understand anyway.  
“I’ll stay. Someone else will bring it, I’m sure.” She sits back down and continues to hold his hand, even though he hurt her, even though he still can’t really move. 

She’s still holding his hand when he goes back to the dark time, and that gives him hope.


	5. Talking With Your Hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He keeps thinking about her. It’s been years since he’s thought of Jess as anything more than a ghost, but he’s been thinking about her smile, her laugh, the gentleness of her. He’s been thinking about how she only ever wanted him to be happy, and for some reason, that alleviates some of the guilt that he is.

He keeps thinking about her. It’s been years since he’s thought of Jess as anything more than a ghost, but he’s been thinking about her smile, her laugh, the gentleness of her. He’s been thinking about how she only ever wanted him to be happy, and for some reason, that alleviates some of the guilt that he is.

They’re creeping up on a six months since the whole Green Place fiasco. The water runs and runs and runs, and the dirt is dirt again instead of dust, and there is moss, when people don’t eat it. The white-haired one’s garden has flourished, to everyone’s surprise, and even the kid has survived. Barely, but he struggled through. Now, though, there’s the issue of communicating with the kid, because his mouth and throat are still messed up. It’s making everyone agitated at times, because the redhead jumps at anybody who does anything it seems like the kid doesn’t want. But she can’t actually tell what he wants, and the kid knows that. That’s one of the things that has him continuing to think about Jess.

The other thing is Furiosa. She’s nothing like Jess was. She’s harder, firmer, but at the same time she’s got that same thing in her eyes when she looks at him. He doesn’t want to think about the complications, but he does, when he’s working on the cars with the older of the no longer white-painted Pups. He’s learned a couple of their names, now. They know his, too, and some of them have dared to start affectionately calling him The Fool, like Furiosa does when she’s in a good mood. 

“Max!” One of them screeches across the sound and heat and sparks and engines, motioning him to come over. He shakes his head, nodding the boy over. He’s one of the ones with a name, Tag. Like the old kid’s game, maybe that’s why he can remember it. Tag starts jumping up and down and making a sawing motion over his hand, ducking down out of sight and then coming back with a hand covered in blood. Finally realizing that someone’s gone and hurt themselves again, Max leaves the engine of his car (everyone is aware that it’s his car, too) and goes to help the boy that managed to slice open his palm on the broken end of a wrench.

It’s that day, sitting in the garages with the Pups and thinking about those signals, that he first has the idea to do Jess’s ghost some honor and teach the kid to talk with his hands. Well, one hand, because the other one still doesn’t work, but his right arm moves and his hand works, so that might help everyone out, he figures. He doesn’t go up often. There’s nothing for him to do in that room but sit and look, and that makes him feel... off. So he doesn’t go up. He’s pretty sure the kid doesn’t actually know his name, but whatever.

He goes up and pulls up a stool on the other side of the redhead, everyone staring at him in alarm. Once he’s sure he has the kid’s attention he puts up three fingers like the letter W and taps his pointer finger against his lip.

“Water.” Everyone is confused for a moment until Furiosa mimics the motion, then laughs softly. 

“Talking with your hands, Nux. That signal, it means you want water.” There’s another moment of confusion before the kid lifts his hand out of the redhead’s vice grip and makes the motion. Max grunts and then makes another motion, bringing his hand back and forth in front of his mouth. Like the old days when people ate with metal pieces - silverware, he makes himself remember the word. The kid makes the motion, and everyone waits. It occurs to him that they don’t know what it means.

“Food,” he says shortly, allowing himself a moment of amusement when everyone there repeats the word and makes the motion.  
“How do you know these things? It seems rather complex, learning to speak with your hands when you don’t speak out loud more than the common plant.” The Dag’s voice is affectionately scathing.

“Someone taught me.” That’s the only explanation he’s giving any of them. He ignores them asking who, looking back at the kid and flipping his hand slowly, palm facing towards him then away. He repeats the motion twice, then looks at everyone else doing it too. “No more.” There’s a sound of dismay from Cheedo in the corner seat, her ankle wrapped around The Dag’s foot. The redhead shakes her head at the smaller girl, smiling brightly.  
“No, Cheedo, that’s the signal for no more. Like if we give him too much of something.” There’s relief, and he sits in the room with the Wives and Furiosa and the kid for the next hour teaching them what he can remember of words with hands. 

He feels like Jess would be proud of him.

When he finally leaves, he goes to eat and then finishes working on his engine. Furiosa comes out when it’s dark, leaning against the door.  
“The Dag thinks the baby is coming soon,” she says after a moment. “Nux seems less tense now that he can sort of express himself. Thanks for that.” He just looks at her and moves his lips, closing the hood of the car and wiping his hands on his pants.  
“What was her name?” Furiosa asks the question he never wanted her to and he looks down at his hands again, sighing slowly.  
“Jess.” She looks angry, so Max stops looking at her, walking around the car to check the tires.  
“Was she from before?” Now there’s some reservation to her voice, so he looks back up to see her face recomposed.  
“Yes.” He doesn’t want to be talking about her. It makes him feel like she’s standing behind him, and that makes him more nervous than he’s been in months.  
“Was she your wife?” Furiosa is going to keep pressing. Max just nods, expecting the next question. “What happened to her?” He pauses for a long time and looks away from the Citadel.

“She went under the wheels.”

Without waiting to let her ask anything else he gets into the driver’s seat of the car, slowly picking up speed as he heads off into the desert, hardly hearing her call for him. Something in his chest feels like hope has died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I actually have never seen the original movies, and from what I've read, there are some huge continuity issues. So I'm kind of treating the new movie as it's own universe, where Max and Jess had a daughter, whom he was hallucinating in the movie. Daddy Max teaching Nux sign language is the whole reason I started writing this thing, so I hope that was a good section for you guys!


	6. Why He Didn't Come

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's been gone for sixty one days.

He's been gone for sixty one days.

She knows that it's her fault. She pushed too hard, and she woke up his ghosts. She has her own, so she should have known better. But she didn't. She pushed when everything in her screamed to stop, and now it's been sixty one days. Nine raids by Gas Town, seven by the Bullet Farm. Twenty one dead Pups, countless of the people on the ground. Toast was shot once, but the Vuvalini were able to fix her up. They couldn't get the bullet out, but she healed up over the top of it. That's probably bad, Furiosa thinks as she watches Toast limp around the Vault. The Dag has been pregnant longer than anyone thought she would, her stomach swollen to what they'd all thought was impossible proportions. She can't go up and down the steps anymore, so Cheedo runs around for her. They're all stressed and defensive and it's making her want to hit everyone, so she's been spending a lot more time than she should on patrols.

She goes out alone, even though she made it a rule that nobody does that. She goes out alone and she goes out often, until she’s spending every second of daylight and most of the night out in the Wasteland, hoping for cars on the horizon. Well, one car in particular, but that’s wishful thinking and she knows how stupid that is. 

Hope is a mistake.

“You can’t keep abandoning us,” Toast snaps at her one morning as they’re eating and she’s heading out. Furiosa whirls on her, fire in her eyes that is immediately put out when she looks at them. Toast looks sick. Cheedo looks exhausted unlike Furiosa has ever seen her, and The Dag - nobody wants to look at the woman anymore for fear that she might just drop dead, thin as her bones have gotten. Eating makes her sick now, every time. She’s a stick woman wearing a bucket over her belly. Capable is covered in grease, even after bathing, and it occurs to Furiosa that she hasn’t gone to see Nux in thirty seven days. She’s always been good at keeping track.

“I’m sorry,” she replies, and for the first time in forever, she doesn’t patrol all day. She stays in, helps with the world she helped to make, and she discovers that things have changed while she was gone. Fixer has become the new Organic Mechanic, and has done wonders for the health of the Pups. They’ve moved Nux down to a room closer to the garages, where he can be there to help, even if it’s just motions. Capable can perform basic maintenance on a car now, and Furiosa hadn’t even realized she was learning. She stays for two days before she can’t stand to be there any longer and spends a day out. It becomes a habit, staying two days to be out one. It’s better that way.

It’s during one of her one-out days that she gets hit by scavengers. Not Buzzards or anything even remotely like them - these are feral men from the remnants of one of the cities. Those are always the worst ones, surrounded in the reminders of the dead world. They chase her, corner her, force her out of her car and onto her knees. She takes out the knee of one of them, thinking only that it’s one less that her family will have to defend themselves against. The man bleeds to death in front of her as she’s forced to the ground, cheek on the dust as she cries out when her metal arm is ripped off crooked, slicing into the nub of her arm.

Abruptly the man that hurt her is dead, a bullet in his head. The others in the group, unable to figure out where the bullet came from, fire randomly in every direction - it’s a waste of perfectly good bullets and three more of them fall in the chaos. Those that are left jump into their cars and squeal away, and upon seeing one of the cars left behind, Furiosa’s heart drops.

It’s his car, nearly destroyed. They were why he didn't come home.

There’s a footstep near her head, and she swings towards it with a furious hatred, wielding her own metal limb like a crowbar.

“Woah, woah, Furiosa!”

His voice hits her like a War Rig and she stops swinging, dropping her arm to the dirt and staring at him. He’s wide-eyed, holding his palms out to her. Max. Stupid fool, he’s alive. Looks sick, like he’s been giving too much blood again, but he’s right there and he’s alive and she throws herself at him again, this time to hug him. He’s stiff and she’s bleeding but it’s fine because he’s back and holy shit he saved her.

“Sorry.” The one word is the last thing she wants to hear, because she’s the one that drove him off. “Let’s go,” he says after a long moment, nudging her back towards another car. Her tires are shot, but this is a place that the Pups can get to easily enough to retrieve everything tomorrow. She’ll even come with them. She lets him lead her to another car, hidden around a bend, and she’s left staring at the girl in the back seat when he pulls away and starts back for the Citadel.

The girl is glaring at her like nobody’s business, fierce blue eyes exactly like Max’s. She’s still a girl, her chest barely swelled and certainly not done growing. Younger than Toast or even Cheedo, and she’s bleeding. Max glances back, grunting at the girl who practically hisses at him.  
“Furiosa,” he says, nodding his head at her. “Ava.” Furiosa feels like she’s been shot, remembering another conversation in the dark. Her own lost son, his lost daughter. Ava. His daughter’s name is Ava, and if the look in her eyes is anything to go by, she hates him as much as the Wives had hated Joe.

When they get back to the Citadel all anyone is talking about is The Dag’s screaming.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after much debate I'm going with the idea that the whole of the new-movie-verse is set in the future of our own world. I'm pegging about 2030, with my Max sitting at a nice 39 so that he had time to be married and everything before everything blew up.  
> So as of our current year of 2015:  
> \- Max would be about 24.  
> \- Ava would be about 1, and this would be the year Jess died. (Because she's clearly grown up some in his hallucinations, I'm going with she lived longer and then they got separated because he assumed she died.)  
> \- It's probably the middle of the Water Wars. 
> 
> Due to the fact that Max really can't be much older and still be able to keep up with everything in the movie without a whole lot more effort on his part, I'm kind of condensing a couple of things. I'm saying Joe was already situated in the Citadel from the beginning of the Water Wars, and had already at that point kidnapped Furiosa and her mother and started his cult. That's mainly to explain why the Wives don't know any other life - I'm pegging them at all late teens/early twenties, with Cheedo the youngest at 18. Ava is 16.


	7. She'll Be Fine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nobody knows what to do. Furiosa has been gone since just before The Dag started having pains. Even the Vuvalini are at a loss, because Fixer says that there should already be a baby. It’s been hours and hours, and the screaming just gets louder and louder. She had to leave, because she felt like she was intruding. Cheedo is bent over The Dag like she’s protecting her, and she’s been that way for hours. Capable has been in the Garages, in Nux’s makeshift resting room, rocking back and forth and letting him pet her hair. It calms them both down, and for that she’s grateful.

Nobody knows what to do. Furiosa has been gone since just before The Dag started having pains. Even the Vuvalini are at a loss, because Fixer says that there should already be a baby. It’s been hours and hours, and the screaming just gets louder and louder. She had to leave, because she felt like she was intruding. Cheedo is bent over The Dag like she’s protecting her, and she’s been that way for hours. Capable has been in the Garages, in Nux’s makeshift resting room, rocking back and forth and letting him pet her hair. It calms them both down, and for that she’s grateful.

The Pups start shouting about a car, and Capable jumps to her feet, reaching for the gun they keep under Nux’s bed. He’s able to get up sometimes, but he can’t go far. It’s usually up to her. She swings out of the bedroom towards the commotion and promptly puts the gun back down, moving to kiss Nux’s forehead and then leave the room again.  
“Furiosa,” she tries to start, but the woman is already moving, heading off at a wounded sprint to the Vault. Capable shoots a prayer towards whatever remnant of a god might be listening. wanting the screaming to stop. She wants The Dag to be safe and the baby to be healthy even more than she wants the screaming to stop, but all of the things would be best, she thinks.

“Capable,” she hears and turns towards the sound. It’s Max, back and sickly looking. “You... help this girl,” he says, motioning to the car. She walks over to look through the window and nearly loses an eye as the girl tries to claw at her. There’s blood all over the back of the car. She looks at Max with wide eyes and nods, trying to decipher the awful hissing from the back of the car as he follows after Furiosa. 

She’s got a new job now, and she has no idea how to deal with it. She can see the injury, and it makes her stomach knot up; the girl’s right foot is gone, the same way Furiosa’s arm is gone. There’s an oozing, bloody stump four finger-widths down from her knee, the wound uneven like someone had hacked it off with a blade. It’s burned at the end, like someone tried to stop the bleeding. Capable runs to Nux’s room and grabs one of the clean bandages they’d intended for him, thankful that he’s in his chair instead of the bed because if she can manage it, she’ll move the girl to the bed. They’ll figure something else out for Nux. 

Carrying the bandage back is like walking through a minefield. She can hear the girl growling and spitting as the War Pups look at her. Cautiously she opens the passenger door and pulls off the back of the passenger seat, sitting on the cushion and looking at the girl. She looks like Max, and that’s alarming, but at the same time, things are weird now that they world is turning green again.  
“I’m Capable,” she says, not even sure if the girl can speak or understand her. She holds up the bandage, smiling. “I can help you, if you let me.” The girl stops hissing, looking at her carefully. She looks like Max had, back in the very beginning, when he’d shot Angharad’s leg. She’s watching the windows, and very slowly she moves what remains of her leg, even though it clearly hurts her.

Capable realizes abruptly she’s not trusting her because she wants to. She’s seeing the War Pups crowding the windows. She’s knowing she can’t run, that she’s weaponless and she has no choice but to let someone touch her. Capable wraps the stump of her leg carefully but quickly, not wanting to hurt her but not wanting to touch her longer than she had to. The girl doesn’t speak, just stares at her as she sits there.  
“Can I help you move somewhere? It’s better than the car.” There’s silence. Very slowly the girl turns over her hand and Capable grabs it, hoisting the girl out of the car and supporting her. The dark-haired girl veers away from one of the Pups trying to help her, crashing them both out onto the dirt. “None of you help, it’s fine, I have it,” she rapidly tells the Pups, all of them stepping away from them. “Do you have a name?” There’s silence, and Capable bites her lip, thinking again that the girl can’t talk.

“Ava.” The word is soft, barely whispered in a voice that sounds too fragile for someone that looks so wild. She’s bleeding through the new bandage already despite the burns.  
“Alright, Ava. I’m going to take you to a place with a be-” The Dag’s screaming echoing interrupts her, and she swallows when the defensiveness in Ava’s eyes turns to fear. “Nobody here will hurt you, Ava, I promise. She’s having a baby,” she tries to explain, but the fear doesn’t leave. The girl tries to scoot away from the noise but ends up slamming the stump of her leg against the floor, causing her to cry out in pain. Capable can tell why she’s so afraid - the bruises on her body remind her very much of the ones she and the other Sisters had once worn, signs of the abuse of men. The Dag’s screaming stops abruptly, and Capable’s stomach knots again.  
“I - I’ve got to go,” she says, scrambling away from the girl and towards the stairs. She can’t have died. There’s no way. Furiosa is here, Max is here, The Dag couldn’t have died!

She gets to the Vault and stares in horror at the blood, Furiosa’s knife laying on the table covered in blood. Cheedo is holding one infant against her chest with another in Furiosa’s arms. Two babies, how could that even happen? Fixer is still working over The Dag. The woman is unconscious, but she’s breathing.  
“She’ll be fine,” Furiosa says, and Capable wilts against the doorway, trembling. Max is looking at her in alarm.

Capable realizes all at once that she abandoned the terrified, injured girl in the Garages.


	8. It's a Kiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...but he is a War Boy, and has had worse.

He can't tell what's going on. The terrible screaming is over, but he doesn't know what that means. There's a flash of red past the door - Capable running. There's still a commotion outside the door but it's so quiet now. Knowing that he isn't supposed to get up without help, Nux reaches for the crutch he has to use, struggling to his feet. It's a fight every time, air not wanting to enter his lungs when he stands. The fire comes back sometimes, enough to make him tremble like a frightened Pup, but he is a War Boy, and has had worse. 

Flog runs to help support him as soon as he hobbles out the door. He really needs to figure out how to tell Capable and Furiosa that he wants to get them to rename the Pups; what kind of names are those like Cull and Flog in this green world? Nux blinks in surprise when he sees the girl on the ground, surrounded by the ring of curious Pups. She's bleeding on the floor from the stump of her leg. He can probably make her a really shiny attachment for the stump when it healed, he figures, as long as she doesn't die from an infection. She's staring at him in alarm, and he doesn't blame her. The burns are mostly healed, but he's not a smooth-skinned person anymore. He's just happy that his hands still work and that Capable doesn't mind how ugly he is.

The girl is trembling in the floor as Nux motions over another Pup, a taller one who helps support him as he hands the crutch to Flog. The boy gets the message and slowly lays it down, nudging it over to her. Immediately she's wielding it like a weapon, but they're all smart enough that they backed away in time.

"Hey," he says, holding up his good hand. "Calm." Words that are only one sound are okay for him, most of the time. He had managed to say Max, Toast, and even Dag once, but he wanted to say Capable. The name he wants to say is the one that he can't get. The girl stares at him as he tries to motion for her to help herself up, but she doesn't understand. All at once she collapses, blood still oozing through the bandage Capable had done. He gets two more Pups to carefully carry her to the bed he's been sleeping in and set him up a chair by her leg. She needs to be re-bandaged, and if there's anything he's learned from the past two hundred days, it's all about bandages.

He can't do it tight, because he knows that will make Fixer mad when she comes back down. Loose but enough to keep more of her blood inside her. Max's wordless symbol for water comes in handy and Scar runs off to fetch him some. He has to wash the wound before it's wrapped, or the dirt and sand he can see will kill her. That was something he'd learned from Fixer too; ask the old Organic Mechanic and the dirtier the wound the better. Very slowly he washes the stump of her leg, making sure the skin a few fingers-widths up is clean as well. Toast and Capable and Fixer and Max and the Imperator all come back down at once, dear Capable helping him to move away from the bed so Fixer can get in.

"Good work, Nux. You've done very good here. Fool, what happened to her?" She's never called Max by his name. Capable lets Nux lean against her while he's on his stool, bloody cloth still hanging from his hand.  
"She... The foot was twisted. Infected," Max says, motioning to where her leg had been.   
"So you cut it off?" The challenge in Fixer's voice makes his heart beat harder.  
"Someone else started. I finished." Max draws back away from the girl, Furiosa's hand on his back making him visibly relax.   
"Her name is Ava," Capable chimes in like a cool breeze, and Fixer nods.   
"She needs blood," she responds, and Max steps forward with the tubing. "Not you, fool, you can hardly stand up. Toast, would you -"

"No." Max sits down in the chair Nux had vacated, scooting it up some. "Me." Furiosa makes a pained face and Capable bites her lip. Toast just leans against the wall, shrugging her shoulder. 

Slowly Capable moves to grab his crutch for him and helps him stand, leading him from the room. The tall staircases are agony at times, but he's revved up enough by all the excitement that he makes it up only having to stop twice and rest. The gardens are doing well, spires of green climbing the rocks. 

"Fixer told me we could take off the bandage on your throat," Capable says as they sit, and he blinks at her in surprise. She uses the little knife that she keeps in her belt - she'd nicked a pair of pants from the dead War Boys' stuff - and slices away at the bandaging slowly. It releases the tension on his throat and he inhales sharply, relieved. He can breathe again. Larry and Barry are gone and Fixer says it's good they haven't come back. He doesn't know how he feels about that - Larry and Barry had always been there for him.

Capable's mouth on his throat earns a startled exclamation. It's the same as what she does to the scar over his eye sometimes, the soft press of her lips.  
"Wh-?" He curses his own throat. She blinks at him when she pulls back, clearly trying to follow.   
"It's a kiss," she says, and that only confuses him more. It must be showing on his face, because she smiles. "A kiss is what you do to show someone you care about them. Parents kiss their children, sometimes friends kiss foreheads or cheeks like we Sisters do. Lovers kiss different ways." She's not looking at him anymore, her cheeks all pink like she's too hot. "Lovers kiss with both their mouths at once, or on the throat, or... other, more sensitive places." He lifts his hand to his throat and makes a noise, making her smile again. "You're so silly, my War Boy. Of course I love you."

All at once he's alarmed. Shiny, perfect, wonderful Capable just said that she loved him and maybe he'd died or something. She's laughing, the sound echoing off the stones, but he's honestly worried. She pulls his head down carefully and puts her mouth against his, making his heart sing praises to the V8 and his head swim like he's been bleeding.   
"I guess it's not really the time," she says on a sigh, glancing to the window of the Vault. "The Dag had two babies, and now Ava's here. It's strange, how much she looks like Max." Nux is hearing her, but he's fixated on her beautiful mouth. Seeing where he's looking, she giggles again. 

"I l-love you t-t-too," he forces the words out of a throat that still refuses to speak, and then she's hugging him and crying and kissing him and he can tell how hard this day has been on her. He kisses her softly and then rests her head against his shoulder, laying his cheek on her hair. "Rest." The word is hardly a breath but she's sleeping after just a few minutes despite the hard ground. 

And there he sat, so hopeful he thought he might burst from it.


	9. One Of These Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “That girl isn’t ever gonna trust you again if you’re the one that cut off her leg, Max,” Capable is the one that says it, even though he knows they’re all thinking it.  
> “She was never going to trust me again anyway.” He answers in a rush, gritting his teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the wait on this chapter! For some reason I hit a wall I wasn't expecting. Chapter 10 by Wednesday!

“Where did you find her?” Furiosa’s words don’t surprise him. He’s been waiting for the line of questioning to start for hours, since they had come up to sit at the ledge of the Garden and watch the horizon. They’re not actually watching for anything, but he’s not good enough with words to tell her that he missed her. She hasn’t said it yet either, but he knows she did. 

“Another Joe sort, four days east.” Furiosa exhales loudly, looking up at the sky.  
“Got sucked into another crazy rescue mission, did you?” She’s not laughing despite the joke in her voice. He shakes his head, tapping the brace on his leg.  
“Bloodbag.” It’s almost a second name for him now. First name, really, because most people don’t know his name is Max. She grumbles, punching his arm lightly. Not as light as she would pretend to punch one of the Sisters, but it’s not hard enough to bruise.  
“You gotta stop runnin’ of and gettin’ caught, Fool. One of these days you might not come back.” He winces at the ache in her voice. Yeah, he’s gone and messed up.

“Wasn’t gonna stay gone,” he says, and she grunts. “Sorry.” His apology is weak, he knows, but it’s all he has to offer. Ava won’t let him near her, Furiosa is angry with him, the Sisters won’t look at him. Furiosa is staring now, like he’s said something alarming. 

“Hey,” Toast calls from the doorway, motioning to them. “Fixer says to come in, she wants to talk to you.” Max drags his leg back from the cliffside, knowing full well that the grilling coming his way is going to be less than pleasant.

“What happened to her leg, Fool?” Fixer snaps the instant they walk into the room, making him grunt. Ava isn’t there, but the remnants of Fixer attempting to stop the bleeding from the stump of her leg are.

“Blood poisoning,” he says after a moment, shrugging. The old woman is still staring at him, making him uncomfortable with the venom in her stare.   
“I know that much, she may still die from it.” Max sighs, raking his hand through his much too-long hair.  
“Chain had been above her knee too long. She, um, it cut her,” he makes a sawing motion with his finger over his knee. “Down to the bone. Dead tissue for everything below. Had to cut it off.” Fixer grumbled, rinsing her hands in a bowl of water that Cheedo brings for her.   
“That girl isn’t ever gonna trust you again if you’re the one that cut off her leg, Max,” Capable is the one that says it, even though he knows they’re all thinking it.  
“She was never going to trust me again anyway.” He answers in a rush, gritting his teeth. “I didn’t start it, only finished. She started.” There’s a huge exhale from everyone in the room. Furiosa’s glare keeps Fixer from talking again, and the Imperator lays her organic hand against his shoulder.

“You need a haircut, Fool,” she says, leading him out of the room. They pass by the room Ava is in, The Dag talking to her. That’s good, he thinks, because Ava had always liked those silly whimsical stories when she was small. Maybe The Dag can find some piece of remembered humanity in that feral woman that had once been his child.

The part of it that had been the worst was that she’d remembered him. He was staring at her like she was a beast, and she remembered him. Eight years, he thought, if he’d figured right, and she still remembered him.  
Furiosa cuts his hair and helps him shave. When she finishes and finds a reflective piece of chrome to show him, he just stares at the face in the mirror. It’s been a long time since he’s seen his whole face reflected in anything, let alone clean. He looks younger than he feels, except for his eyes.  
“She’ll get over it in time. Everyone does. If my mother was to come back all of the sudden, I’d be angry with her too. But I’d get over it, because once upon a time, I loved her, and I’d remember that.” Max grunts at her words, no response coming to his head. She runs her fingers gently over his scalp, and he just sighs. 

“I was wrong,” he says after a long moment. “She went under the wheels too, like Jess and Angrahad.” He doesn’t admit he only knows her name because of the other Sisters screaming for her when she’d fallen. “What if I was wrong with them? What if they could have been saved?” Furiosa doesn’t say anything, but she looks pained. He knows then that he had been wrong, that the woman that had gone under Joe’s tires had been alive when they’d left her. He has to bury his face in his hands at that knowledge.

“It doesn’t matter, Max.” He doesn’t move, doesn’t look up. “Max!” Furiosa snaps at him, shaking him when he doesn’t respond again. “Max, her body was crushed. She lived for a very short amount of time. We all would have died if we’d stopped. She would have wanted us to keep moving anyway.” He swallows and glances up, seeing the anger and the truth in her face. 

“How do you know?” He asks, voice ragged. Furiosa sighs, setting her hand on his head again.

“Her body was in the back seat of Joe’s car when we got in. Beneath the platform you gave me blood on. Toast and Miss Kitty hid her there so it wouldn’t upset the others. She told me once we got back. We buried her here, in the Garden.” He lets out an aching sigh at the words, glancing towards the doorway. “Not today. Tomorrow I’ll take you. You have to sleep now. Don’t make me drug you.” He grunts when she tosses a pillow at him. “That’s a gift from the Sisters. Ava got one too, so don’t try. Get some sleep, because I’m going to make you do manual labor tomorrow.” Another grunt and she blows out the candle, limping out the door. 

“Furi?” He feels like a small child calling for his mother. She stops, turning back to look at him. “I’m sorry.” She smiles softly and nods, the expression too gentle for her face.  
“I know.” She’s gone after that, leaving Max to sit alone in the dark and hope that just maybe he can fix things.


	10. Domestic or Defensive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She feels like she’s watching him heal.

She feels like she’s watching him heal.

It’s almost the same way that they spent so long watching Nux’s skin piece together and scar. There are still scars on Max’s soul, and Furiosa can see them as clearly as she can see the scars on Nux. He’s healing, and it takes time. He goes to the stone that marks Angharad's grave every day, sometimes for hours, sometimes for just a few minutes. Capable mentions once after he’s left the breakfast table that she thinks he’s probably spoken more to Angharad than he’s spoken to the rest of them combined. He’s a little crazy again, but it’s a different sort of crazy. She can’t really place it. Then again, she can't really place him lately, either. He's there and then he's gone, spooked out of a room by a simple motion or phrase.

"What's going on?" Furiosa finally asks him one day, leaning against his car. He grunts at her, raising an eyebrow.  
"What?" He's gotten a little better about talking, but not by much.  
"You're not all here." She can tell once again that she's struck a nerve, like she did when she was harassing him about Jess. This time he just continues to lay on the dirt, staring at the sky and the underside of the car at once.  
"I'm not..." He stops and she doesn't speak. He needs time, time to figure out what he's trying to say. 

"Domestic." He finally figures out the word to settle on and she raises an eyebrow. Furiosa barks out a laugh, staring at him with disbelief until she notices he's not even smiling. She sighs then, shaking her head.  
"Of course you're not. No one expects you to be." She knows that's a little bit of a lie. He has a small amount of experience with babies, which has come in handy. The Pups all think he's their new Immortan despite the way he scolds them against the word. Several times she's heard them talking about how Max needs a title better than Immortan, because he's so much shinier himself. 

"Ava's here," he says, like that somehow clarifies his concern for her.  
"And?" They stare at each other until he gives a long-suffering sigh.  
"I wasn't good then either. Not for Jess or Ava. I'm - I told her - Angharad - I'm not domestic. I'm a Road Warrior. I don't know how to sleep in a bed or have breakfast or be normal." She's never heard him talk so much at once, and she finds herself hanging onto his words. He falls silent and she realizes he's waiting for her to talk back. The quiet stretches and stretches as she tries to think.

"You don't need to be... domestic. There are still people with guns and bombs trying to kill us. Domestic isn't how to think. Think... defensive." He grunts again, finally sitting up and raking his hands through his hair.  
"Defensive?" He sounds unsure but she still nods.  
"Defensive. Of your - our - redemption. Together. We defend it, we keep it running. Domestic is a word for the sisters." Max huffs out another sigh.  
"Tell that to the Pups that started to call me Pa this morning," he grumbles, and it takes every ounce of her iron will not to bust into laughter.  
"Why'd they do that?" She's careful about composing her voice. He sees right through it.

"Laugh, go on. Nux and Capable did." Furiosa's mouth twitches but she keeps it in. "They liked the new names I gave them. Nux helped. Cull and Flog and Flay and Wardog are no names for boys." She reaches out to pat him on the head, receiving a half-glare in return.  
"Well, what's worse? Pa or Immortan?" She knows he can tell it's a trick question because he stays quiet. "Come to dinner when you're done. We need to go over the supply run tomorrow." He grunts at her as she leaves.

The stairs still tire her out, her lungs aching. She's recovered, for the most part, but things like stairs and long runs still wind her. Furiosa stops for a moment at the top of the winding staircase to catch her breath, her attention turning to a sound down the hall. Not where she'd been heading, but she'd check it out anyway.

The sound ends up being Ava, precariously balanced on Nux's old crutch as she drinks from the jug of water that had been left on the opposite side of the room from her bed. Furiosa stands in the doorway for a long moment, knowing that startling her would likely only get them both hurt. The Sisters have finally gotten the girl clean, it seems. She looks even more like her father now, the dark brown of her eyes appearing nearly black as she finally looks at her. Ava's hair is chaotic curls, falling to obscure her vision and make her look as feral as she acts.

"Do you want more?" On a whim she makes Max's symbol for more, a clawed hand with her fingers towards her body while pulling away from her chest. Ava stares at her in alarm for a long moment before glancing at the jug and then nodding.  
"Food?" Comes the soft question, a voice far too gentle for the wild girl that used it.  
"We're having dinner soon. I can help you to the table," she offers, watching the girl shrink away. "No one will hurt you." Still Ava shakes her head.  
"Max." The fact that the girl doesn't want to even be in the same room as her father makes Furiosa's chest hurt. 

"He didn't want to leave you, Ava. He thought you were dead." She's watching the girl's hackles rise.  
"I thought he was dead!" Furiosa raises her eyebrow to the raised voice.  
"And? You were separated. My mother died many, many days ago. But if she was to come back, even after everything that's happened, I would still love her." Ava looks as though she's been hit. There's a long silence as the girl struggles back to her bed, hopping haphazardly with the crutch.

"I'll go. I'll make sure you get some dinner soon." Furiosa turns on her heel, anger rolling in her stomach. Some part of her feels bad that she snapped at the girl, but the rest doesn't.  
"Wait, please," Ava asks just as she goes around the corner. Furiosa pauses and then turns around, leaning in the doorway with a raised eyebrow. 

"I... I'm not stupid. I'm not." The girl seems to be trying to convince herself even as she speaks. "He was gone. In the mind, he was gone. He's not the same now. I barely remember, but he's not the same. He looks at me and I can tell. He doesn't want me here. He -"  
"He does too," Furiosa speaks abruptly, cutting the girl off. Ava speaks more than her father does; must have come from her mother. "He still loves you, in his way. He was gone, you're right. He's trying to come back. You don't help when you..." The Imperator stops, realizing that the girl isn't even listening. She's muttering about her Pa, about the truck with nails in the wheels. Furiosa sits and listens until Ava's fingernails start to cut into her palm. Gently, aware the girl isn't wholly with her, she touches the girl's elbow - dodging the sloppy punch is easy.

"Do you want to come to dinner?" She asks again before another punch can be thrown - Ava pauses, seeming to suddenly remember the conversation.  
"He'll leave," she says, and Furiosa realizes that the pair have been shoving each other in circles.  
"I won't let him this time, Ava," she responds, standing to help the girl stand. When dinner is finally served and Max comes into the room, she directs him to the empty seat beside his daughter.

"No," he tries to say, but she pinches his arm hard and shoves him into the seat. There's awkward silence around the table for a long moment.  
"Hello, Pa," Ava finally speaks, mouth hidden behind the hunk of bread she was eating. Conversation starts around the table again, and Furiosa can tell that Max is trying not to cry. 

This is what it feels like, she thinks, to see hope being born.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to apologize to everyone who's been waiting on this! I got a little preoccupied with life and managed to dissuade myself from continuing, but it was rekindled when I rewatched the movie. Thank you to everyone who's left me kudos - I love you guys!
> 
> Also thank you to my beautiful beta reader. Ily. <3


	11. This Is a World For Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time since Immortan Joe’s death, Nux is going out on one of the supply runs. Capable isn’t sure how she feels about it. Part of her is proud, and she’s happy because he’s so excited to finally be of use beyond directing the Pups and fixing the vehicles, but the rest of her is very, very scared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's still reading. <3 You guys are all shiny and chrome!

For the first time since Immortan Joe’s death, Nux is going out on one of the supply runs. Capable isn’t sure how she feels about it. Part of her is proud, and she’s happy because he’s so excited to finally be of use beyond directing the Pups and fixing the vehicles, but the rest of her is very, very scared.

She remembers Fury Road. She remembers the blood and the pain and the dust. She doesn’t understand how people like Max and Furiosa and Nux can manage to thrive the way that they do, out in that. There’s no good soil for them to put down roots in. Maybe, she thinks, that’s why they always come back to the Citadel. That’s where their roots are. 

Max stays more now that Ava speaks to him. She’s still too jumpy, with every unknown person making her twitch and tremble. But she’s better than she was. It’s like when Max had still been Fool on the War Rig, shoving his gun into Toast’s face as he glanced over his shoulder. Insurance, because he didn’t trust them. Slowly, Capable can tell, Ava is starting to trust them.

Furiosa watches them, the father and daughter, with an odd look on her face. None of the Sisters can place that look. It’s like she’s afraid and hopeful and angry and happy all at once. They’re talking about it one day when Ava hobbles into the room, making them all fall silent.

“You’re all very loud,” she says, glancing at them. “I could hear you from down the hallway.” Ava is strange like that, with beast-like hearing. Like the feral animals that some of the Pups had found and thrown scraps of food at. Capable knew where their meager meat supply came from, but she didn’t like to think about the slaughterhouse and the poor deformed creatures inside. It made her think of herself, and she didn’t like that at all.   
“Sorry, Ava,” The Dag says, holding one of her babies to her breast for her dinner. Both little girls are beautiful. One of them has a stumpy pinky finger on her left hand, and the other is missing a toe, but nobody has ever said anything about the tiny imperfections. In a way, it makes all of the Sisters feel better about the babies. Maybe if the world goes wrong again, they’ll be saved from the life of a Wife by their tiny but manageable problems. Like Furiosa.

“Do you really not know what the look is?” She questions them, even as Toast stands to help her sit. She likes Toast, for some reason that none of them understand. She likes The Dag and she likes Cheedo and she likes Toast. There are days where Capable likes to think that Ava likes her as much as the other Sisters, but she can’t be sure. All of the former Wives shake their heads, and Ava gives a tiny smile that looks like it’s more sad than happy.

“It’s love. Like Capable and Nux.” There’s a room-wide gasp as Ava says the words that nobody dared to even think. Furiosa? The unbreakable Furiosa, in [i]love[/i]?

“I wouldn’t go so far as that, Ava,” says the woman they’d just been speaking about, standing in the doorway. All of the Sisters pale except Ava, who just changes the tone of her smile.   
“Sure,” she says with a roll of her eyes, something that she’s adopted from Toast. The way she speaks has changed as well, more sarcasm and less bite.

“Really. Those words are too strong.” Furiosa raises an eyebrow at the woman-child in challenge. Ava doesn’t back down, and now the Sisters feel like they’re watching a big game of tug-rope.  
“Too strong? What words would you use, then?” Furiosa doesn’t hesitate with her answers.  
“Trust. Respect. Fond friendship. Not very many people can say they have friends in this world, Ava.” 

“You think I don’t know that?” Ava massages the knee of her half-leg. “So are you saying you don’t love my pa, then? Say it, if you mean it.” All of the wives have moved to sit on the same bed and watch the battle raging before them. All of them know that Furiosa is no liar, that even for her pride she will not lie to them.  
“I - what exactly do you want from me here, Ava? Do you want me to say I love him? This isn’t a world for love. He doesn’t want my love.”  
“So you do love him?”  
“What does it matter?” Furiosa thumps her organic hand against the wall. “Yes, I do. But it doesn’t matter.” Ava lets out a giggle that makes everyone in the room look at her like she’s lost her mind. 

“You’re wrong, Furiosa. This is a world for love. That’s what the world is missing. My pa loves me, and I love my pa, and you love my pa, and my pa loves you.” Furiosa looks like she’s been shot in the stomach.   
“Ava, it’s not - that’s not the same -” Ava stops with the giggles and she looks at Furiosa sternly.   
“This is a world for love. Also, you should always make sure the person you’re talking about isn’t standing behind you. All of you people are crazy.”

Then Furiosa is gone and they’re left watching Ava massage her knee with a look of satisfaction on her face.  
“What... just happened?” The Dag asks the question, glancing between her Sisters’ faces. Capable doesn’t have an answer, really. She just wants to go back down to the Garages and Nux and get out of this confusing conversation about love. None of them are really sure that Ava even knows what love means, but if she was really right and Max did love Furiosa like Furiosa loved Max, then the dynamic around here might be changing soon. Maybe. Possibly. 

“Anybody know where Furiosa and Bloodbag ran off in such a hurry?” Nux pokes his head in the door and Capable shrugs at him.   
“Nobody knows,” The Dag answers mysteriously, wiggling the fingers of her free hand. Nux looks at her like she’s crazy, like he always does. It’s an adorable look on his face, but he doesn’t like to be called adorable. He’s still a War Boy in his head, so he needs to be things that War Boys were.   
“No, really, we ought to be prepping for the supply run,” Nux mutters slowly, his mouth still giving him issues with speaking. “I’ll go find out from them, then, I - “  
“No, Nux, wait, I’ll go prep with you!” Capable calls, realizing very abruptly what two passionate people like Max and Furiosa could be getting up to if they did love each other. Nux isn’t quite satisfied, because he still has problems letting her down in the Garages with everything that’s so dirty and dangerous. 

Four long hours later, Furiosa and Max show up again. There are a series of dark bruises on Max’s throat, and all the ex-Wives know what they are, but none of them speak. He doesn’t seem any different, nor does Furiosa. It’s awkward, even as the convoy prepares to drive off.

“Hey,” she calls to her War Boy, jumping onto the side of the truck to lean up and kiss him. “Be careful for me, alright?” She has to say it, because she’s happy and scared all at once. “I love you.”

“Love you,” he responds, nodding. “I’m just riding crew anyway. Shouldn’t be any problems.” She nods and climbs down, nodding at Furiosa so the woman will pull away. Max is sitting up top of the new War Rig with Nux with Toast in the front seat with Furiosa.

Almost everything that holds the Citadel together is riding off towards their enemies, and Capable is stuck holding onto the faint hope that they’ll come back in one piece.


	12. Welcome To The Bullet Farm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Honestly, he knows they should have been expecting the very unwelcoming welcome committee. He knows that they should have been slightly more prepared. It’s his inner War Boy that’s really getting him all revved up, the knowledge that in times now past these swine wouldn’t have dared to raise their eyes to the glory of the War Boys. But the time of the War Boy is past, and therefore, they’re met with more guns than he knows numbers for.

Honestly, he knows they should have been expecting the very unwelcoming welcome committee. He knows that they should have been slightly more prepared. It’s his inner War Boy that’s really getting him all revved up, the knowledge that in times now past these swine wouldn’t have dared to raise their eyes to the glory of the War Boys. But the time of the War Boy is past, and therefore, they’re met with more guns than he knows numbers for. The largest of the men pulls Furiosa and Toast away, disarming the pair. Max doesn’t take kindly to that, and Nux responds the same way - it’s all he knows. Defend your own, put down the enemy. One of their captors takes out Max’s bad knee and the rest goes downhill from there. He still can’t move well enough for him to be of any use beyond getting slammed to the ground. Max is chained up, almost the same as the very first time they met. Upside down with a muzzle, to prevent him from doing anything drastic, lowered into a hole in the ground and held up with barbed wire. Nux himself they put into the same pit, oddly deep and entirely made of metal. There’s a corpse rotting on the other side from where he sits, but he’s not a stranger to rot.

Night falls on the Bullet Farm, and the temperature drops. He’s grateful for the dead man as he robs his clothing, using the filthy jacket as a blanket of sorts. His scars are hypersensitive to the cold. He spends most of the night standing up because of it. Just when the blood-red colors of dawn start to show through the opening of the pit, there’s a single gunshot. It echoes off of all the metal, resounding around them. Nux accidentally drops Max from where he’d been helping him bend his spine, stopping the blood from pooling in his skull. His limbs are trembling with exhaustion and cold at this point. There’s yelling, screams of treason, more gun shots. Then silence for a good long while, not the slightest of sounds coming from above them. All at once Max is hoisted out of the pit and a ladder is dropped for Nux. He sheds the filthy jacket and climbs out, trying to rev himself up. It doesn’t work. 

“Gentlemen,” a man says, motioning around them. “Welcome to the Bullet Farm. They call me Ironbar, and I’ve just captured myself the leadership of this gracious establishment.” Max is sitting on the ground with more malice on his face than Nux has ever seen, muzzle freshly removed. Both of them are ‘assisted’ into one of the buildings, where Max’s leg is splinted up. Ironbar gives them drinks the likes of which Nux has never tasted. It’s wholly unpleasant, burning as he swallows. Like gasoline, but somehow slightly better tasting. Max downs the whole of the cup he was given, grunting. 

“I’ll openly admit, I was never a fan of the Immortan,” Ironbar says after a few minutes of quiet. Nux looks up at him. Max does not. “But he didn have one thing right.” The roles reverse, and Max is staring at Ironbar now, while Nux stares at Max. “Family is the most important thing in the world. And that, Max,” Max jumps at the sound of his name. “Is why so long as I rule this plot, you and I will trade peacefully. I owe you my sister’s life. Finding Toast again was my final push to take this place from the new Bullet Farmer.” Nux feels like a young Pup’s toy, head bouncing back and forth between the two older men. The staring contest goes on for what feels like forever, and Nux is abruptly reminded that compared to them, he’s a child. Even Toast might be older than him, now that he thinks about it. Suddenly Max nods and both of them relax, leaving him extremely confused as to what exactly just happened.

“Furiosa?” Max questions. Ironbar sighs.   
“Knocked unconscious during the altercation earlier. She’ll be fine once she wakes up. Toast is with her.” Max hobbles through the door that the other man indicates, Toast coming out a moment later with a vicious bruise on her face. Despite that the siblings look very alike, now that he can see them side by side. 

“Nux, you okay?” Toast questions him, poking at the cut on his forehead. He nods.  
“Yeah, I’m shiny. You okay?” She nods, looking at her brother. She doesn’t smile at him. It’s just a very [i]Toast[/i] look, one that he can’t describe as anything but Toast-like. 

They’re given food once Furiosa wakes up, gruel compared to the actual food they’ve got at the Citadel. There’s talk of trade, once the more loquacious Furiosa gets into the conversation. Water and food for metal, shelters to be set up for the people dwelling below the Citadel. Proper towns, working more to make a road. Ideas for dealing with Gas Town. It’s all nonsense to him, and he finds himself focusing more on trying to plan out an attachment for Ava’s leg. It was healing well, oddly-shaped as it was. There’s a commotion from outside the building, causing Ironbar to stand and head for the door.

“Bulle - I mean, Mister Ironbar, sir!” It’s a young girl that comes crashing into the man’s stomach, stabilized by him grabbing her so she doesn’t crash backwards. 

“What’s the matter, Frenzy?” It’s the same sort of dynamic that Max has with the pups, Nux thinks. Secondary fatherhood.  
“Smoke, sir,” she tries to continue, but her words are lost to more noise outside. Nux’s blood freezes over as he reads her lips, a talent learned on Fury Road. 

“Smoke from the Citadel!”


End file.
